


The Trouble with Demons

by PickleandtheQueen



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Demons, Gen, Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 11:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21270449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PickleandtheQueen/pseuds/PickleandtheQueen
Summary: For the DBz Authors/Writers discord Halloween fic exchange





	The Trouble with Demons

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sifl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sifl/gifts).

“Why does ancient latin have to be so hard,” Gohan groaned, staring at the massive book in front of him. 

“You can hold off on Ancient Latin, sweetie,” his mother said as she planted a kiss on his forehead. “My little scholar is working so hard already!”

“But my brain is at the optimal age for learning a language, and it will only make becoming a doctor easier.” Gohan sighed, and leaned closer to the book. “I’ll stop after another hundred pages.”

“Okay, baby.”

His mother had long since gone to bed, and Gohan had grown bored of his textbook. He fiddled with his textbook, brain too busy conjugating to fall asleep. 

In the back of the used text book, someone had written something in purple ink. It might be fun to test his memory by translating it.

He started to sound it out, his tongue tripping over the unfamiliar sounds. He repeated a few words, changing the pronunciation until it sounded right. 

Gohan blinked. It was darker in his room now. His lamp must need a new bulb. He flipped a page to check a word. 

Was he just tired, or was the air heavier? 

He reread a line of the scribbled handwriting, then nearly fell out of his chair as his room shook. Gohan’s head whipped back and forth, an earthquake? The stench of sulphur assaulted his nostrils and books fell off of the shelves. An unnatural wind whipped up and around him, snatching his hair and pajamas. He tried to yell but no sound would come out. His chair spun of its own accord, and Gohan found himself staring into a pair of burning red eyes set in a green face. Long, dagger sharp canines gleamed far too close to his throat. 

“Um, hello,” he squeaked, his mouth dry. 

“Are you the one who broke the seal?”

“What?” Gohan’s brain scrambled to translate the words he had just read. This had to be a bad dream. 

There was no way a demon could be sitting in front of him. 

The demon pursed its lips and loomed closer, enveloping Gohan in its purple shadow. “A mere child?” The demon hissed, “a child frees the Great Demon King Piccolo? What mockery is this?” 

Would it make the situation worse if he started praying? Gohan leaned as far away from The Great Demon King Piccolo as he could without falling out of his chair. 

“M-mockery, sir?” 

Piccolo pulled away, a snarl curling his lips. 

“Tell me, Boy, what were your intentions for releasing me? To lay waste to a playground bully?” A harsh, barking laugh followed the question. “Or to torment your babysitter?” 

“I…” Gohan swallowed, his throat barely cooperating. “It was an accident.”

“An accident?!”

Piccolo’s fangs clicked together, and Gohan yelped, squeezing his eyes shut. When he opened them, he saw Piccolo draw a very large, clawed hand down his face. 

“If only I could slaughter you for such an offense.”

“Why can’t you?” His heart was beating a very harsh staccato under his ribs. “Not that I want you to kill me. Or my mom. Please don’t hurt my mom.”

Piccolo rounded on him, and Gohan flinched. 

“I cannot kill you - or, now, your mother - because of that damn book and that accursed ritual you just - just stumbled upon!” 

Gohan furrowed his eyebrows and turned to read the book, this time taking extra time to mentally translate each word. He had to rearrange it and play with the structure of sentences for it to make sense.

“So, so I own you?”

He wasn’t sure if he was comfortable with that. 

“More or less.”

“Oh.”

Piccolo scowled at him, massive green arms crossed over his chest. “D-do you want to sit down?” Gohan indicated his comically small bed adorned with a dinosaur comforter. 

Piccolo looked at with disdain.

“Kami smite me and burn my bones with salt,” he groaned, but sat down all the same. 

“My name is Son Gohan,” Gohan offered, sliding off of his chair and holding out a shaking, tentative hand. 

The Great Demon King Piccolo stared at it for a moment, before sighing and taking it. 

“Hello, Son Gohan.”

“You can call me Gohan.”

“Fine.”

Gohan climbed up next to the demon. 

“Do I have to feed you? Do you need water? Can my mom see you too? Is there a time limit on this situation? Do you think you can help me learn Latin? Oh, am I gonna go to Hell because of this? I’d rather not go to the Hell.”

“One question at a time.”

“That’s hard.”

“Tough shit.”

“Don’t swear, it’s naughty.”

“I am a f -“ the word seemed to catch in Piccolo’s throat, and he glowered at Gohan. “I am a demon. Not a pet.”

“Okay but what does a demon need? Are you hungry? Thirsty? You don’t drink blood, do y—“ Piccolo covered Gohan’s mouth. 

“I said one at a time.” 

  
  
  
  



End file.
